


The Hunt

by neverlowkey



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Smut, Morgwen - Freeform, One Shot, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 12:48:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7052287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverlowkey/pseuds/neverlowkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An afternoon hunt raises sexual tensions between the lady Morgana and her friend/maidservant Gwen.  Summary is shit, fic is not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hunt

Morgana’s muscles ached after a long day of hunting. She didn’t mind the pain though; it was a refreshing change from the prickle of the suppressed power just beneath her skin. Gwen followed her into her chambers to help her prepare for dinner. Gwen’s eyes flitted over her lady’s svelte frame as she put away her bow and quiver. Gwen wasn’t sure when exactly she had started enjoying the way Morgana looked after a hunt, but she supposed it was around the time she realized that she preferred women over men. It wasn’t so much that she didn’t like men; Arthur was certainly attractive and Merlin was cute in a puppy kind of way. It was just that women (particularly Morgana) had such soft skin and smelled so lovely and looked so elegant when they walked… among other things. 

Gwen slowly approached her mistress. Morgana’s skin shone with sweat from the exertion of the hunt, and Gwen wondered fleetingly if she would be able to taste the salt on her lady’s skin. Gwen knew she really ought to keep such thoughts from her mind when she was in Morgana’s presence, but it was a difficult task when Morgana looked the way she did now, with her skin flushed and glimmering in the light of the setting sun and that fire in her eyes that could only come from the thrill of riding. She was truly breathtaking. Gwen had to look away for a moment to calm herself when Morgana pulled off her shirt and handed it to Gwen. Gwen’s gaze lingered on the taut lines of her lady’s stomach for a moment before she realized Morgana was speaking to her.

“…don’t you think so, Gwen? Gwen? Anyone home?” Morgana inquired in her lovely lilting voice.  
“I’m sorry, my lady, what was that?” Gwen replied.  
“I said that those rabbits we caught today will make a lovely pair of gloves, don’t you think? And with winter coming, you’ll need a decent pair.”  
“Oh, my lady, I couldn’t—,” Gwen stammered.  
“Gwen, you know you don’t have to use titles around me. How long have we known each other?” Morgana interrupted. She smiled sweetly and Gwen could have sworn she’d just been kicked firmly in the chest.  
“For as long as I can remember,” Gwen sighed. 

Morgana ducked behind a screen to undress and tossed Gwen her dirty clothes. Gwen had to resist the urge to hold them to her face and inhale deeply. She placed the clothes in the hamper and fetched Morgana a simple gown for the evening. Morgana slipped it over her head and held it up as Gwen tended to the fastenings. A shiver ran down Morgana’s spine at the feel of Gwen’s skilled fingers brushing against the delicate skin of her back. She barely stifled the moan that clawed at the back of her throat when Gwen smoothed the wrinkles in the fabric of her gown. Hunting always seemed to make her particularly sensitive to Gwen’s touch. Perhaps it was the rush of the chase, or the way Gwen blushed when Morgana offered her gifts made from the pelts of their catch, or the pleasant contrast between the ache of her sore muscles and the tenderness of Gwen hands on her body. Whatever it was, it always made her ache in a way that had nothing to do with exercise. 

Gwen’s hands lingered for a moment on Morgana’s hips before she withdrew them to retrieve a hairbrush. Morgana felt strangely bereft at their absence. Gwen ushered her into the seat by her vanity and began to pull the tangles from Morgana’s wild locks. Gwen loved the softness of Morgana’s hair. She gently ran her fingers through the thick russet waves. Each gentle tug of her chestnut tresses sent heat churning to Morgana's core. She gripped the arms of the chair so hard her nails began to dig into the wood. She managed to suppress the shudders that had been building in her until Gwen finished with her hair, but her knees shook when she stood from her chair. Gwen either didn’t notice or pretended not to. Gwen lifted a sparkling necklace and fastened it around Morgana’s slender neck. She admired the way it hung against Morgana’s sharp collarbones and rested in the hollow of her throat, imagined how that tender skin would feel against her tongue, the sounds Morgana would make when Gwen marked her… 

Morgana cleared her throat nervously and Gwen snapped out of her trance. She stepped across the room and opened the door for her mistress. Their eyes met for a moment as Morgana approached the door, and Morgana found herself wishing she would never have to look away. The two of them always seemed to gravitate toward one another, moving closer and closer until there was an inevitable crash. They were so close now that Morgana could see every freckle on Gwen’s lovely, sun-kissed cheeks, and Gwen could feel Morgana’s breath on her face. But before she could succumb to those burning eyes and succulent lips, Gwen tore herself away, and the tension of the moment faded into a stiff, suffocating silence. Morgana took her leave before she did something she’d regret. 

~*~*~*~*~

Dinner that night was a cheery, boisterous event, but both Morgana and Gwen were unusually quiet and solemn. Morgana seemed to have lost her appetite after a few bites and decided she needed a few more goblets of mead to make it through dinner. Gwen was so lost in her own head that she didn’t hear any of Merlin’s witty quips about his spoiled prince.  
“Hey, Gwen, are you alright?” Merlin asked concernedly.  
“Oh, yes, I’m fine,” Gwen replied. “Just tired from the hunt.”  
Merlin nodded understandingly but the wrinkle of worry never left his brow. It was unlike Gwen to be so distant.

After dinner, Gwen escorted Morgana back to her chambers, and once again they felt the tension between them. Suddenly the room felt stifling, but neither of them had the courage to speak. Morgana turned her back to Gwen so she could unfasten her gown. Gwen silently helped her undress. Normally their silences were warm and comfortable, but tonight there was an awkwardness in the air that cast a pall over the room. 

“Shall I draw you a bath, my lady?” Gwen inquired.  
“Yes,” Morgana replied, “that would be lovely.” She avoided Gwen’s gaze as she spoke. Gwen mirrored her indifference as she filled the tub with steaming water and a perfumed oil that smelled of crisp pine and winter roses. She loved that smell. 

Gwen finished drawing the bath and left Morgana alone to bathe. She went back into the bedroom and coaxed a warm, crackling fire to life in the hearth. Then she laid out Morgana’s nightgown and turned down the covers. She couldn’t think of anything else that needed to be done, so she sat on the edge of the bed and nervously waited for Morgana to finish bathing. 

A few minutes later, Morgana emerged from the bathroom in a thin satin robe, her hair still dripping. Gwen tried not to stare at the way the fabric fell against Morgana’s graceful curves. Morgana summoned all of her courage as she approached the bed and sat beside Gwen. It might have had something to do with how much she drank at dinner, but Morgana was sick of the tense almost-moments between them. She raised her hand to tenderly stroke Gwen’s cheek. Gwen let out a little sigh at the gentle touch.  
“Gwenivere,” Morgana whispered, “may I kiss you?” 

Gwen’s eyes went wide like a frightened doe's, but she gave a little nod and leaned toward her. Morgana’s hand slipped into Gwen’s hair and she tenderly brushed her lips against Gwen's. Suddenly Gwen couldn’t help herself. She tangled her fingers in Morgana’s hair and tugged. Morgana gasped as the pain sent a delicious wave of heat washing over her. Gwen slid her tongue into her lady’s mouth, and groaned at the feel of Morgana’s tongue against her own. Morgana pulled Gwen close. Gwen could feel every curve of Morgana’s divine figure through her thin robe. She was suddenly possessed by the unbearable need to feel Morgana’s skin against her own. Her hands slipped down Morgana’s neck, across her prominent collar bones, and over the lean sinew of her shoulders, dragging the fabric of Morgana’s robe with them as they went.  
Morgana moaned into their kiss as she realized what Gwen was doing. She pulled away for a moment and huffed, “Are you fond of this dress?” Morgana’s eyes glowed with a hunger Gwen had only glimpsed fleetingly. 

“Not very,” Gwen gasped, “why?” Morgana’s only response was a golden flash in her eyes and the sound of fabric tearing. Then Morgana was pushing her onto the bed and climbing on top of her, her tongue laving over the sensitive skin of Gwen’s neck, and her skin alive with a crackling energy. Gwen struggled trying to shimmy out of her ruined dress and pull Morgana’s robe off at the same time. Another flash of Morgana’s eyes, and the dress was on the floor in tatters. Morgana slid Gwen’s slip off as Gwen pulled desperately at her robe. Finally they were bare. Gwen kissed Morgana with a burning fervor, and their bodies tangled in the sheets until the fire was nothing but glowing embers in the hearth. 

~*~*~*~*~

The sound of birds chirping woke Gwen the next morning. A still naked Morgana was pressed against her back with an arm draped over her waist. Gwen knew she should regret what had happened the previous night, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but bliss. She wanted to wake up with Morgana bare beside her every morning for as long as she lived. Gwen looked over her shoulder at her friend-turned-lover and smiled to herself. It was rare that Morgana looked so peaceful. Gwen was usually woken in the middle of the night by Morgana’s terrified screams. She was cursed with horrific nightmares, many of which were eerily prophetic, but it seemed as though Morgana had slept soundly through the night. She looked serene with strands of her disheveled hair lying across her face. As Gwen watched her, she realized that Morgana was snoring lightly and tried unsuccessfully to stifle a giggle. Morgana’s eyelashes fluttered at the sound, and she opened her eyes. Gwen rolled over to brush the hair from her face. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Gwen greeted. Morgana smiled back at her.  
“Good morning, Gwen,” she replied as she pulled Gwen close. She leaned in to kiss her.  
“Morgana, did you know you snore?” Gwen interrupted.  
Morgana looked adorably indignant. “I do not!” she protested.  
Gwen giggled. “Yes, you do! But it is rather adorable,” she laughed. Morgana’s smile returned and she kissed Gwen tenderly. 

“Would it be terribly strange if I said that I love you?” Morgana whispered.  
“No, it wouldn’t,” Gwen breathed.  
“I love you Gwenivere,” Morgana whispered. Tears welled up in Gwen’s eyes. She took Morgana’s face in her hands and kissed her with such force her lip bled. Morgana’s moan was a delicious melding of pain and pleasure, and such a primal sound from her lover had Gwen’s desire burning anew. She straddled Morgana’s exquisite hips and pinned her wrists against the mattress as she coaxed fresh bruises forth on her ivory skin. 

“Gwen please!” Morgana gasped. Gwen cut her off with a heady kiss, and suddenly Morgana was helpless against her. Gwen tenderly kissed her way down Morgana’s body, bequeathing hot kisses to every dip and curve until she was teasing the skin on the inside of her lover’s thighs and Morgana had one hand wound tightly in Gwen’s hair and the other clamped over her mouth to muffle her moans. Gwen lavished the crux of her thighs until her toes curled and her lovely frame went rigid with pleasure. When Morgana finally went limp above her, Gwen kissed her way back up to her mouth and swallowed the moan Morgana made when she tasted herself in Gwen’s mouth. After she had had her fill, Gwen withdrew and watched Morgana drift in a sea of post zenith bliss. Her breath came in ragged gasps and her skin was flushed and glistening with sweat. Gwen idly noted that she had never looked more beautiful.

When Morgana’s breath finally steadied and she opened her eyes, it took her a few moments to find her voice.  
“You certainly got very good at that very quickly,” she huffed. Gwen’s beaming smile was deceptively innocent.


End file.
